The Legend of LionO
by AnonymousIncognito
Summary: An ever living evil has returned. It is up to a young lion Prince and a fellowship of mighty warriors to save not only their world but the universe as well. Witness the beginning of the Legend that is Lion-O.
1. Distant Past: Birth of Evil

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the imagination in my mind. No monetary gain is made from this so if you want to sue, you're going to be disappointed. Thunderacts belongs to Warner Brothers, not me. If I owned it, the series would have been brought back years ago and would still be airing without fear of cancellation.

* * *

Long ago, when the dawning rays of existence first touched this planet, Cats had already established a reputation across the stars as grand explorers, scholars, and warriors in the service of good. On their home planet of Thundera, they developed a grand and thriving civilization founded in peace to which other races flocked, for it was considered an honor to visit the Cats to learn from them.

For many of these other races, there was no greater honor than to learn from one of the legendary Thundercats - the elite of the feline race believed to be favored by Gods due to their use of amazing abilities far beyond even the considerable powers of the average Cat. Some could use Potence to enhance their strength, allowing them to toss aside massive boulders as if they were tiny pebbles, or use Celerity to move at speeds so fast, they could only be perceived as blurs of color. Others mastered arts such as Chimerstry to summon forth illusions so detailed they could fool even the keenest of minds, or Melpominee which allowed one to use sound to control others. There were even Thundercats known to experience visions of past, present, and future events with Auspex as well as Animalism to bond with lesser evolved creatures.

So respected and regarded were the Order of the Thundercats, it was from their ranks that every Thunderian King and Queen selected kahina - personal protectors and advisors.

And it was from the ranks of the Thundercats that the universe's greatest evil and its most noble savior would emerge.

* * *

Pumm-Ra was originally a Thundercat sorcerer and scholar who lived during the reign of the Thunderian King Byakko, the white tiger. So great was his knowledge and ability, it was widely rumored that the puma would one day take the place of Wizz-Ra, the caracal who served as High Cleric. But, Pumm-Ra did not want to be High Cleric. He lusted for more power than that. No, Pumm-Ra desired to be King.

His chance came when Byakko, who had grown old as King and was ready to step down but had no living heir, announced a proving was to be held. The winner would earn the right to succeed the aged tiger.

Pumm-Ra eagerly jumped at the chance to compete. Over the course of the three day event, the puma crushed all he was paired against, often showing little mercy. By the end of the Proving, only two cats remained; Pumm-Ra and a young, blue-eyed lion named Leo who many considered divinely favored.

Leo had made a name for himself in the Royal Intergalactic Exploration Corps during the Plun-Darrian wars when he defeated the leaders of both the Jackals and the Lizards in combat using a unique sword fighting style that would come to be known as BladeSinging due to the song like sound produced when the weapon was swung. It was no surprise that upon his return, the hero had been promptly brought to the King and made one of his personal kahina.

The two met on the field of battle and what a battle it was. From dawn till dusk the two exchanged great and terrible blows, refusing to break off. As the moons shown down their silvery light, the telling moment came.

Pumm-Ra punched straight out with his free hand, shattering Leo's nose against his cheek, causing an explosion of pain and color to disorient the lion. Stunned and realizing that the second it would take to regain his bearings would be one second too long, Leo reacted on instinct, locking his blade at the hilt with Pumm-Ra's and snapping one foot behind Pumm-Ra's ankle before lunging forward.

The puma had no way to avoid the trip and he toppled backwards, taking Leo with him and causing the hilt of the lion's sword to piece his right eye, destroying the orb. Blinded and unable to continue, Pumm-Ra was declared the loser.

Pumm-Ra had never lost a challenge before and did not know how to handle it. In his grief, the defeated Cat sought the comfort of Panthera, the adopted daughter of Wizz-Ra who he loved more than the vast collection of texts and scrolls he'd amassed but found that even in the matters of the heart, Leo emerged the victor. Panthera, who had known both Cats, had accepted Leo's declaration of affection and consented to become the soon to be King's mate and Queen.

For the first time, jealousy and hate burned within a Thunderian. In his rage, Pumm-Ra abandoned Thundera in search of a way to avenge the terrible slights that had been unjustly visited against him.

On the Moonstar of Limbo, Pumm-Ra found his answer in the form of Harpy, Nemesis, Sobek, and Okkoto – the Ancient Spirits of Evil – who were more than willingly to grant his wishes as long as the slighted Cat was willing to perform two services in return – propagate their will and destroy the Cats. Without a second thought, Pumm-Ra agreed and was transformed into a Conduit for the Dark Gods. Armed with new powers, Pumm-Ra began a campaign of terror across the stars drawing in other followers of evil, enslaving countless races, and exterminating countless more all the while spreading the vile influence of his new masters.

* * *

Soon, Pumm-Ra returned to Thundera not as Cat but as conqueror seeking the Book of Omens which the Ancient Spirits of Evil feared above all else for contained within its pages was the means to utterly destroy them.

However, the Ancient Spirits of Good foresaw the coming evil and prepared the Thundarians well, bestowing unto the Thundercats and their new King divine weapons and armor – the greatest of which being the Sword of Omens and its scabbard, the Claw Gauntlet.

What followed was a great war the likes of which had never before been observed. During the chaos, Pumm-Ra managed to destroy all but one of the Thunderian Conduits – his former love Panthera - and would have taken the Book of Omens had he not found himself once again staring into the blue eyes of Leo, King of the Cats.

Confident beyond arrogance that he could win, Pumm-Ra ignored the commands of his masters who sensed the sheer awesomeness of the blade and engaged the newly crowned King. Freed from such ideals as honor, loyalty, and courage, Pumm-Ra fought with a rage and hatred never experienced by Leo and soon, the King found himself hard pressed brought down to one knee. With a shout of triumph, Pumm-Ra leapt high into the air, ready to split open the lion's skull with a massive overhead chop of his blade.

Leo never saw the jewel set into the Swords crosspiece change from a cat's eye to a profile of a hunting cat's head, he didn't need to. He felt it, felt the presence of warmth, strength, and love within the Blade. He felt it in his heart and heard it in his mind and Leo knew what to do.

As Pumm-Ra reached the apex of his leap, Leo grasped the Sword of Omens with both hands, raised it high, and with a mighty roar of "HOOO!" willed forth a blast of pure crimson light to engulf the fiend.

Pumm-Ra could feel his energy, his power, even his very form being torn away as the beam encompassed him. As the light faded away, all that remained of the once mighty Cat was a broken, shriveled, pitiful, mummified husk.

The battle won, Leo rushed to Panthera's side, tears mixing with her blood. The King of Thundera prayed to the Ancient Spirits of Good to save her, even offering his life in exchange; and his prayers were answered in the most fantastic way.

A great, golden mist appeared within the hollowed halls of Cat's Lair, swirling and sweeping round and round until two forms emerged and Leo found himself in the presence of Nobanion-Mane and his wife Sekhmet-Bast – the Patron Gods of the feline race.

The two deities assured Leo that they day had been won and that peace would return – for a time. Panthera would live and the race of Cats would thrive. The body of the fallen Pumm-Ra was ordered to be sealed in a sarcophagus of adamantite and entombed within an obsidian pyramid to be constructed on Earth – a newly discovered planet not far from Thundera that Cats would one day call home - and the name Pumm-Ra was to be stricken from all annals and records. Ever more would the Cat who betrayed his people for evil be known as Mumm-Ra.

* * *

Now, thousands of years since that time, the prophecy of the Gods has begun. On Third Earth, the new home foretold of by the Gods, a cub has been born to the lion Claudus, King of the Cats and descendant of Leo – a cub with blue eyes….and dark clouds have begun to gather around the Black Pyramid once again.

* * *

This is the tale, the chronicle, the Legend of Lion-O.

* * *

A/N: Big thanks to those who kept on me to get this posted. As the story progresses, things might change so always keep an out out for new material. I might just keep you on your toes. Questions are always welcome as are comments. Let me know what you think and I'll try my best to keep you happy.


	2. A New Day Dawns: Birth of the Herald

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything I could make money off of. The original content is mine, everything else belongs to them.

This Chapter is dedicated to the two daughters of Apollo who have helped and pushed me to stay motivated. I couldn't have done it without either of you. As always, I'm more than happy to answer any questions anyone may have about my story. I'm very talkative by nature so don't be afraid to contact me.

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Walking by his King's side down the white marble corridors of the Royal Thunderian Academy, the High Cleric Jaga couldn't help but admire the noble feline he'd helped raise. On this day, in this place, Claudus carried no weapon - wore no armor. The wise jaguar knew that his friend's decision had little to do with neither his presence nor the presence of the two other Clerics that followed not far behind. It didn't even have anything to do with the fact that the Royal Guard was but a call away. More so, it was the King's way of showing faith. Faith in his people; faith that here, in these halls of learning and enlightenment, there was no need of physical weapons for any reason other than educational purposes.

Of course, the fact that Claudus was a massive mountain of a lion, easily standing at six and a half feet tall, seemingly made of pure muscle, gifted by the Gods with immense degrees of Potence in addition to Fortitude, who was trained and educated by the finest of masters since he was a cub didn't hurt either.

Yet, despite his imposing physical prowess, those who knew Claudus best knew he would rather raise steins of honeyed milk _with_ another than raise arms _against_ another.

Indeed, many times in the past, most often during these Times of Planting and Rains, Jaga would find the King pausing by an open window when a gentle breeze floated in, carrying upon it the scents of freshly tilled soil, crisp rain, and newly emerging blossoms of which Claudus would deeply inhale, relishing in the purity of new life. It was no secret that the seasonal periods of spring were the lion's favorites just as it was no secret that Claudus considered war the greatest tragedy of thinking minds.

The oldest living feline on Third Earth couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped him during his reverie.

"Thinking about the day's events old friend?" asked Claudus, the brief laughter of his mentor and advisor causing a peak his curiosity.

"I am simply picturing the faces of the workers who will once again be called upon to repair the damage done to your balcony." The King's Kahina replied wryly.

Claudus understood what his friend had meant and the two shared a hearty laugh. Often, during his daydreaming, the King would often flex his toes as if moving them through newly shifted earth resulting in deep gouges into the solid stone floor.

"Send for the stone masons" had become an order all too frequently given during days of blue skies and light breezes.

* * *

As the monarch and his entourage approached the twin oak wood doors to the intended lecture hall, they caught sight of Paradus, contemporary of the Jaga and Headmaster of the Academy, dressed in a traditional brown and beige toga adorned with the symbols of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom, Meriu-Hu, denoting his status within the Instructors Guild. The old leopard had been overjoyed to learn the news and was all too willing to be assist in the arrangements.

"Well met and welcome my Lord. This institution is humbled and honored by your presence on this most auspicious of occasions," the pedagogue greeted with a deep bow before turning to the High Cleric to clasp his wrist. "My dear friend, your years of loyal service have truly earned the Cats the blessings of the Gods this day. Your family has my most sincere congratulations."

"Kind thanks Paradus. You humble me with your words. May Meriu-Hu continue to show favor upon you. Pray tell, are all preparations in order?"

"Yes Jaga. Orris of the Snow Leopards, who will be returning from her visit to Alamut – the grand Tree City of the Warrior Maidens, has agreed to substitute for the remainder of the spring seasonal periods. I will oversee the classes her arrival."

"Excellent." Claudus chimed in. "As always Paradus, you exceed expectations. Now, there will be time for more pleasantries and well wishes later. If we tarry too long, the ladies may get…irritated and I do not wish to once again have my mane braided with pink bows to slate my mates wrath. Shall we proceed?"

* * *

With a mind as sharp as a blade and a wit as quick as a Cleric, Kivuen was the type of educator that students naturally responded to. Thanks in large part to the rapid development of his Chimerstry bestowment, it didn't matter the subject, the Thundercat used his amazing illusions to ensure his lessons were always appealing. Even other faculty often attended his lectures if for no other reason than to take notes on how to better interact with their own students.

Currently, the spotted tiger was enjoying a full seat count as he provided an in depth history of the human race, centering on the time after their wars and overpopulation forced the majority of the species to abandon the planet in search of a new home world, bringing an end to Earths second age. Catching sight of the Academy's Headmaster quietly slipping inside, he offered a smile and a nod of recognition whilst continuing his lesson.

"…and while humans have long called Planet "Bob" home, many still travel the stars. I'm sure quite a few of you have heard tales of space pirates, drifter colonies, and the Interplanetary Control Force of the Galaxy Alliance…"

"I am sorry to interrupt," Paradus announced, catching the attention of the room and forcing the serval to temporarily dispel his illusionary celestial display. "A matter has arisen involving your instructor – a matter that requires Royal attention. As such, students will behave in a respectful, courteous manner while our King is here. Please remain quiet and seated until this matter has been tended to. Is that perfectly clear?"

Satisfied with the resounding "Yes Headmaster" that echoed throughout the class of Third Year students, the leopard opened wide the doors to allow Claudus entrance.

Dressed in rich ivory and silver, cape flowing with every regal stride, the King of Felines captured the imaginations of every youngster he passed. Once more, Jaga found himself admiring the lion, admiring the inspiration he created by simply being.

"Kivuen, son of Ambrosius, servant of Merui- Hu, bend no knee to me this day." Claudus ordered warmly, seeing the serval preparing to bow. "I come on the behalf of my Lady Claudette who is currently preparing the Birthing Den for your mate Ferelle."

"Birthing Den; then the time draws near?"

"Near? The time is at hand. Kivuen, you are about to be a father. Make light your burdens and go be with your mate."

"But the students; my King who will –"

"Your students will be fine," assured Paradus. "I have made all the necessary arrangements to ensure they will not fall behind in their studies in any way."

"And I have made arrangements for the students to receive a special gift as well." Claudus announced turning to address the class."All students shall receive exemption from the rest of the day's classes if the class can correctly recite the Code of Thundera."

Kivuen couldn't help but beam. "My Lord, if there is one thing I can attest to, it is that my students know and respect The Code. Class, rise and recite!"

As one, the class rose from their seats. As one, the class proclaimed: "Truth, Loyalty, Honor, and Justice."

* * *

Satisfied and filled with pride, Claudus dismissed the class before he ordered Paradus to spread the words amongst the faculty.

Kivuen moved to leave as well but was halted by the commanding voice of his King.

"I have one more proclamation to make before you go. On this day, I am relieving your father of his duties and responsibilities."

The shock on Kivuen's spotted face was evident but not nearly as much as the shock on the face of Jaga. "My Lord, I cannot-"

"I will hear no objection dear friend. Today, by my order, you are to be Ambrosius, father of the Thundercat Kivuen, soon to be grandfather of a new Thundercat. If any Gods object, I beg their humble forgiveness and request any punishment be upon my shoulders."

Once more, Claudus had proven exactly why he deserved the title of King.

* * *

In Thundera, the birth of any cub was always a momentous occasion. Under normal circumstances, a mother carried a cub for just over three full seasons; if the cub was a Thundercat, the pregnancy spanned a full year. Prior to the birth, a mother would be taken to one of many specially prepared octagonal chambers known as Birthing Dens inside Cat's Cathedral, the home of the Thunderian Clerisy, where a personally chosen acolyte would not only assist bringing the new life into the world, but would also perform the Rituals of Birth as well.

For the third time, Claudette rechecked the intricate hieroglyphs traced in henna upon the cheetah's skin. The lioness knew that each line had to be as precise -as perfect - as possible otherwise the Divine Calling might go unheeded. Thankfully, prior to marrying Claudus, Claudette had served as a Priestess of Sekhmet-Bast and was a favored student of Jaga, personally trained in the Clerisy by his hand alongside the cheetah that now prepared to give birth.

"It is not easy to concentrate on my breathing when you keep tickling me." Quipped Ferelle as her friend's delicate fingers gently brushed across her swollen stomach.

"I am worried I used too much Anointment Oils. If the henna runs, I risk ruining the Calling." The Queen of Cats explained. "If I were responsible for harming your child in any way, I could not live with myself."

The cheetah smiled at her sister in all but blood. "Claudette, thanks to you, I am giving birth to my cub in the Royal Birthing Den. Thanks to you, I am surrounded by perfectly etched runes and glyphs and have full faith that the Divine Calling will succeed. Thanks to you, my husband is receiving an escort by the King himself."

Claudette's laughter was as pure as the light in her eyes."Think nothing of it. I have found that carrying a length of pink ribbon at all times makes Claudus amazingly receptive to my wishes."

* * *

It was just after the thunder began rolling that Kivuen arrived at his mates Birthing Den. Even though he'd only stopped to change his attire from the helm and toga worn in the halls of the Academy to a simple sky-blue tunic belted at the waist with a simple circlet of platinum around his forehead to keep his shock of dusky blonde hair out of his eyes, word had spread throughout the kingdom of Thundera resulting in nearly every Cat the elated serval passed pausing to offer a blessing of congratulations.

Inside the center of the twenty foot diameter chamber, he found Queen Claudette – dressed in a simple wrap of silk, a neck-clasp set with rubies and aquamarines, and the golden head-dress of a high priestess of Sekhmet-Bast, notable for the ankh made of blue emerald that was set upon its brow - pampering his mate who lay amongst a sea of the softest pillows and pelts – known as a Parturition Grotto - through another contraction. The stone representations depicting their chosen Gods and Goddesses stood in front of six walls – each with a small kneeling mat set in front of them, the Flag of Thundera - bearing the ancient symbol of the Feline Race was hung upon the seventh. Set to the side of the Grotto was a beautifully crafted alter of worship, which had been carved millennia ago on the planet Thundera, from the wood of an Yggdrasil Ash. Upon this alter were set the items that would be required for the Ritual.

"Thunder approaches my love. I was beginning to worry you would not arrive on time." Ferelle huffed, beckoning to her dear Kivuen.

"A labyrinth full of the children of Nemesis couldn't stop me from being by your side my love. Now, we have a lot of friends and family wanting to meet the newest member of our race; let's not keep them waiting shall we?"

Ferelle took hold of the serval's hand as she shifted further onto her back and placed her legs in the traditional birthing position. Claudette gave her friend a reassuring grin as she lit set the incense coals smoldering.

"Everything will be fine sister. I'm going to begin the Rituals of Birth now. Just follow my instructions and the next thing you know, you'll be announcing the name of the most precious cub Thundera has ever seen."

From the chambers alter, the lioness retrieved the Chain of Loyalty then moved to the statue of Sekhment-Bast where she kneeled upon a small mat that had been set in front and placed the ancient treasure at its feet.

"In the name of Sekhmet-Bast, Matron of the Gods, we ask this child be blessed.

We ask the Goddess to bless the feet of this child that they may carry it swiftly in loyal service.

We ask the Goddess to bless the hands of this child that they may work for that which is just and honorable.

We ask the Goddess to bless the heart of this child that it may beat in strength and love.

We ask the Goddess to bless the lips of this child that it may speak no evil and give forth truth.

We ask the Goddess to bless the brow of this child that its mind shall seek wisdom and enlightenment."

Before returning to the alter Claudette paused to check the condition of the cheetah. From the scent of the pheromones, Ferelle's child would be arriving sooner than expected. Still, she could not afford to rush; an attempt to quicken her pace might be seen by the Gods as an insult.

With another smile and word of reassurance, Claudette took up the Bracelet of Power and approached the bust of Nobanion-Mane, repeating the tithing process.

In the name of Nobanion-Mane, Patron of the Gods, we ask this child be blessed.

We ask the God to bless the feet of this child that they may carry it swiftly in loyal service.

We ask the God to bless the hands of this child that they may work for that which is just and honorable.

We ask the God to bless the heart of this child that it may beat in strength and love.

We ask the God to bless the lips of this child that it may speak no evil and give forth truth.

We ask the God to bless the brow of this child that its mind shall seek wisdom and enlightenment."

Again the process was repeated with the Golden Oar being brought to the statue of Mafdet.

"In the name of Mafdet, Messenger Goddess, we ask this child be blessed…"

* * *

Six hours and forty-seven minutes later, Ferelle was resting peacefully, Ambrosius was proudly displaying the tiny, toe-headed cheetah that was his granddaughter to the King -who was more than overjoyed to meet the newest Thundercat – while a medic tended to his sons broken hand.

"…and just as this little angel was starting to crown," Claudette explained, " Ferelle squeezed so hard, she broke his hand. Kivuen was so excited he didn't even realize the bones had been crushed until after the child was completely in my arms."

"It's a shame precious one," Jested Claudus as he bobbed a meaty finger in front of the cooing newborn, "That your father does not possess my Fortitude. It would take more than a labor pain to best my muscle."

"Is that so?" Claudette questioned in a playful voice laced with sugar and serpents venom. "I might just have to send one of my Ladies out to fetch some pink fabric so I can test the limits of your Fortitude…"

The laughter was light until Claudus flashed a Cheshire grin and replied: "My love, you test the limits of my Fortitude every night in our bedchamber."

The Gods themselves were surprised that Ferelle slept through the explosion of laughter that ensued.

Ambrosius was the first to realize there had been an addition to the group. It came in a gentle tug at the lower edge of his cloak. Looking down, the venerable jaguar smiled at the sight of a pajama-clad Tygra, Kivuen's adopted son of four years.

"Ah, young master Tygra, eager to welcome your new sister?"

The kitten bashfully nodded while shuffling his feet.

Claudette, who had been holding the newborn, bent at the knees and allowed Tygra to look upon her.

"Tygra, this is your little sister Cheetara," Claudette introduced. "She bears the markings of Sekhmet-Bast so she is going to be very special. That means she'll need her big brother to keep her safe."

Tygra spent a moment scrutinizing the babe before he began to giggle and point at the cubs face. "Glowy eyes."

Sure enough, the adults saw that the cheetah cub's eyes were glowing golden as if she were responding to the call of the Lord of the Thundercats.

Concerned, Claudette stood quickly, ready to hand off Cheetara to call for a medic, only to watch as the eyes returned to a coppery-red.

"Hmm, most curious…" Ambrosius noted, "But most likely nothing more than a reaction to being in the presence of the Bearer of the Sword. The matter will be looked into but for now, I think it best Cheetara returns to her mother. She is probably growing hungry and could use some rest. Tygra, remain here for just a moment and then we will go find your father; I'm sure he will be as happy to see you as I."

The lioness placed a hand upon her mates as the two watched the High Cleric disappear into Ferelle's birthing Den. "My love, would you be pleased if I were to tell you that in a year's time, your boast concerning your renowned resiliency enduring the hand of a birthing mother would be tested by me?"

It took a moment for what the lion was being told to sink in but when it did, Claudette found herself suddenly twirling in the air, supported by the strong arms of her true love. "Pleased? Pleased!? The son of my mentor has just fathered a wonderful child and now the love of my life, the light of Thundera, tells me she is carrying my heir – a Thundercat no less- and you would expect me to NOT be pleased? My Queen, you know me not. Tonight, I will have to teach you how pleased I am."

Claudette wanted to answer but found it difficult with Claudus plundering her mouth with a passionate kiss.

Little did either know just how much their child would forever affect the destiny on their race.

* * *

TBC…

Next Chapter: Light of Thundera: Birth of the Legend

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AN: Well, hope you enjoyed the latest chapter. A lot of stuff in it isn't there? Questions, comments, raspberry sugar snaps, send em in via PM or review. The more feedback I get, the better the story you will get so let me know what you think.

**Just remember, certain questions I won't be able to outright answer because of spoilers so please, don't get upset if I can't reply to something you are curious about. It's not you, it's that I don't want to spoil the surprise for others. And please, no asking for the answers in a PM with a promise not to tell. It's not going to happen.**

Extra Credit Pop Quiz hot shots: What is the core foundation of the Birthing Chant? Hint: The Old had it, the New ignored, the Fans cherish it.

Once more, Prairie and Bronwynn, you have both been inspirational. Words can't express my thanks.


	3. Light of Thundera: Birth of the Legend

Disclaimer: I don't own the things others own. What's theirs is theirs and what's mine is mine.

Opening A/N: As always a big thanks to Prairie24 and Bronwynn. You two have done so much for me, I wanted to do something in return so your gift is included in this chapter.

This chapter is being dedicated to a special little angel named Oliver. You might have lost your battle with your health issues but you've won a trip to a better place. You were and are loved. You will be missed and you will be in the thoughts and hearts of all those you touched in your brief time.

Go in peace Oliver, you earned your rest.

* * *

_A brief history of Third Earth…_

If one were to travel far south and east of the region forming the Thunderian Pride Lands, across the River of Despair, and farther south and east still past the Great Deserts, one would come to the Waste Lands of Moorwen. Here in this forlorn realm of blistering sands, black clouds, and the reeking, feted stench of death stood the imposing Onyx Pyramid - surrounded by its four massive Lightening Obelisks.

Most inhabitants of Third Earth had no idea the structure was originally built by Cats to serve as the prison of the Felines greatest enemy – Mumm-Ra - countless millennia ago, during the time the Race of Man was just beginning to create its first civilizations.

These First Cats faced a crisis. They would not defy their Gods' wishes but they could not leave such a young and easily influenced species such as humans in the presence of such a corruptive evil as Mumm-Ra; for while the creature's body was trapped within a sarcophagus locked by 130 mystical seals, his spirit could still roam – albeit briefly. It was decided that humans would be taught the fundamentals of religion, language, math, and science in the hope that such lessons would foster the strength of goodness. In this, the Cats succeeded but, so too did the putrescent corrupter Mumm-Ra succeed in planting the seeds of evil.

Pleased that their servant had managed such a task in the face of such limitations, The Ancient Spirits of Evil decided a reward was in order for they were nothing if not rewarding... in their own way. Using slaves and sorcery, the Onyx Pyramid and the sarcophagus were perverted into sources of worship, sanctuary and power to be used by Mumm-Ra upon his resurrection.

And his resurrection would soon be at hand.

* * *

The dawning rays of Third Earth's single sun found the venerable High Cleric Jaga sequestered in his private study – of which he'd spent the entire night without rest - crouched over a 14 inch by 18 inch field of soil atop a pedestal, again performing chants of invocation to Shemtet, the Goddess of Magic and Mystery, and Mafdet, the Messenger Goddess, before engaging in another Runemal. As they had done before, the stone oracles scattered in the same pattern, divining that the writings of Wizz-Ra were indeed correct; the prophesized time was at hand. Soon, the final seal would break allowing the ever-living evil of the lich Mumm-Ra to once again threaten the goodly creatures of the universe... and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

For all his wisdom, for all his knowledge, the jaguar found himself in a true conundrum. The task of combating the coming darkness would fall primarily on the new generation of Thundercats. Mumm-Ra was a blight the likes of which none had faced in thousands of years. How to prepare? How to explain to not only his son and daughter-in-law but to the King and Queen as well, that their offspring were destined to play important roles in the struggle between light and dark – perhaps even being deciding factors in the final outcome?

And what of that final outcome; would the feline race survive? Would any goodly race survive? In ages past, Mumm-Ra had nearly succeeded in cowing all those who would and could stand against him.

No, his race would survive - would win. With every fiber of his being, the Jaga held faith in his people and their Gods. A Cat had defeated Mumm-Ra before and a Cat would defeat the fiend again. The Chosen One and his Kahina would be prepared.

Then and there, Jaga swore an oath to his Gods, his kingdom, and himself that he would do all he could, give all he could, to ensure his people were ready.

* * *

Ever since she was a cub, Claudette loved the market of her city; especially during this seasonal period of spring. In her opinion, the area that contained the merchants and vendors was the true social hub of the city and the lioness was a social monarch if ever there was one. The sights, the smells, the sounds, the sheer diversity of the crowds excited the Queen, often leaving her breathless in amazement.

Of course, the salespeople welcomed her visits as well. She knew many of their names and took an active interest in not only their business lives but their family's lives as well. She loved her people and her people in turn loved her. It didn't hurt that a simple, off-hand compliment from the stunningly beautiful Lady as to the texture or design of a fabric or the cut of a particular stone would often result in a veritable mob of customers afterwards, demanding to have that which the Thunderian Queen favored.

Even in the later stages of her pregnancy, Claudette still made it a point to venture amongst her people. Granted, her husband the King made sure she went with a full entourage of only the most trusted aides. The Queen interpreted that order as "take your friends shopping, make sure you have protection just in case, and please don't spend too much."

"Ferelle, you simply must come look," beamed the expectant mother as she held up a tiny, burnished orange leotard. "Cheetara would be just adorable wearing this."

The cheetah approached, holding the cooing newborn in her arms."By the Ancients, you are right. Panthro, what do you think?"

Standing with his massive arms crossed over his even more massive chest, the twenty-year-old black leopard that dwarfed the King himself merely growled in reply; his face locked in what seemed like a perpetual scowl.

"Come now Panthro," chided Claudette, "We are not on any battlefield or in any barracks. You can drop your 'made of stone' attitude or have you forgotten that I have known you since you were no bigger than a Sandy Tailed Hooji? Now I would like a male's perspective so please be honest; do you like it?"

Panthro was glad his fur was so deep in hue for it covered his blush nicely. "It appears to be quite functional but the style is a bit retro for my taste."

"Softy," giggled the five-year-old Tygra standing by Panthro's side trying to mimic his pose.

"Don't push your luck squirt…" grumbled the warrior attempting to not let the grin that threatened to upturn his scowl show through.

* * *

On the walk back to Cat's Lair, Claudette was positively beaming as she gently rocked Ferelle's giggling cub Cheetara (of whom she simply adored) allowing her dear friend to playfully swing Tygra round and round. She could not express the joy she felt at the thought of soon being able to do such things with her own child.

Perception; it was something Panthro prided himself on mastering. A large portion of the reason he'd been able to rapidly move through the ranks of the Thunderian Royal Guard was due to his ability to notice the smaller details and not his phenomenal degrees of Potence or Fortitude. Thus, when he noticed that the pregnant Queen had begun to rhythmically purr and her breathing had grown heavy, he motioned for the Clerics under his command to be on guard. When the Queen slowed her pace for the slightest of moments, wincing and dropping a hand to her swollen belly, Panthro immediately handed off the large load of boxes and packages he'd been carrying and moved to check on his Majesty.

"My Queen, are you alright?" The leopard questioned with utmost concern.

"Yes, my cub just decided to give me a good kick is all."

"Beg your pardon but that flinch didn't look like a kick. Same way that grimace you're trying to cover isn't from a cub kicking either. Understand that my first duty is to protect the Royal Line and the way I see it, what's in your stomach counts as part of that Line. As long as I'm around, my oath is that no harm is to come to you and yours. Now, I ask again are you alright?"

"She is fine Pathro," assured Ferelle as she relieved Claudette of Cheetara, "Minor contractions to match the distant thunder we have been hearing. I dare say though, with the volume of purring, it might be best to occupy the Royal Birthing Den sooner than later."

"Good advice but I fear the crowds might be too thick to make good time." Claudette groaned as she worked through another uterine motion.

Being a primary trade city for the region, the streets of Thundera could often become thick with merchants, patrons, pilgrims, dignitaries, and all other manner of travelers; today being no exception. Fortunately, the group had a perfect crowd control device.

"Panthro, if you please…" Ferelle beckoned with a gesture to the throng of peoples and a knowing glance in the walking brute squad's direction.

"EVERYBODY MOVE!" The leopard bellowed, his volume coming very close to one of the King's famous roars.

The effect was immediate and as a wide berth opened without question. Panthro allowed himself a smug smile.

Standing beside his idol, Tygra carefully rolled a pinky in his ear.

"Loud softy." Groused the youth.

* * *

It was while pacing the Birthing Den and listening to the near deafening rolls of thunder that Claudus realized two epiphanies. The first was that although his list of often recited deeds was long indeed, he could count what he considered his defining life moments on but one mighty paw: meeting Claudette, graduating from the Academy, marrying Claudette, and finally, taking his place as King after the passing of his father Krugeri. Now, Claudus could add becoming a father to his single-handed compilation. His next epiphany was that like the mantle of husband, he preferred the mantle of father to the title of King.

"I need you to push Claudette," Jaga insisted from between the Queen's splayed legs. "I am starting to see the head but I need you to give a good push."

"Ughngh" groaned the female as she bore down, reaching for his hand for comfort.

Claudus simply reacted to the sight of his wife in pain. In an instant, he was by her side, taking her hand in his. In an instant, his beloved bore down as another massive contraction racked her body. In an instant, bones in the King's hand audibly snapped under the strain of Claudette's grip.

And in the instant it took the tough-as-nails King of Cats to mewl like a kitten, Claudus knew full well that Ferelle and her husband Kivuen would never let him live down his wife breaking his hand.

As the head began to emerge, the amniotic sac burst spilling its fluids out. Jaga understood this was the most crucial time. Ever so slowly, more and more began to emerge until finally, the infant smoothly slid into the waiting hands of Jaga who promptly clipped its umbilical cord and wrapped it in a warm cloth before presenting the squawking bundle to its parents.

"A boy!" Claudus exclaimed noting the babe's physical "appendage," red colored peach-fuzz mane and eyes of the most brilliant blue. Eyes of blue… "Is he blind?" Claudus queried in a panic.

"He most certainly is not." The High Cleric laughed as he carefully collecting the placenta that followed the cub as it had exited its mother's passage. "Note that your son's vision focuses in on our sounds as well as our movements – and quite keenly I might add. Besides, Nobanion-Mane is said to have eyes of blue and do not forget, Lord Leo, who began the Line of Leonitus was also known to have such pigmentation. This is clearly a blessing from the Gods as surely as Cheetara bearing the markings of Sekhmet-Bast."

"I have a son – we have a son," Claudus gasped as he looked lovingly at his wife as she licked the cub clean. It was only the forethought of his station that prevented Claudus from running down the streets of his city shouting the news like an elated child. "He needs a proper name."

"Indeed," Agreed Jaga from his place at the altar where he prepared the final ingredients to complete the ritual. "Have you any thoughts?"

"Solacious," offered the King with a playful grin. "Or maybe Percival? Perhaps Chauncey would be more suitable? "

"By the Ancients, my love," Claudette growled from her bedding, "If you even formulate the thought to actually name my son any such name, I will remove your "scepter" with a Troglodyte's tooth and bury it in a part of Moorwen even Mistress Pakhet would have trouble locating."

"Bah!" grumbled the King in mock defeat. "We might as well just name him Lion-O and be done with it."

"It's perfect!" Claudette exclaimed. "A perfect name for a perfect son given to me by a perfect husband."

"It is like Cheetara's," pointed out Jaga as he approached the new parents. "Ancient and powerful. A wise choice if ever there was one made."

In his hand, Jaga held a saucer containing the afterbirth of the lioness, which was presented to Claudus. The King bowed his head in thanks to the jaguar then dabbed his thumb into the dish before scribing the ancient Thunderian symbol for mother upon Lion-O's left cheek, the symbol for father upon the cub's right cheek, and finally, the symbol for son upon his forehead.

'In time, your destiny will take you far from your mother and I, little Lion-O. But know that we will never truly be apart from you - even many years from now when our spirits have departed to Mag Mell. All the days you live, you shall carry us inside you. The richness of our lives shall become yours. All that I have, all that I have learned, felt, and experienced… I give to you, my son. You shall make my strength your own, and see my life through your eyes, as your life will be seen through mine. While we shall not always agree, your mother and I will always love you.'

Completing the Ritual of Birth, Claudus consumed the plated endocrine gland in a single bite- the belief being that since the placenta united the mother and cub, the father's consumption created a link between all three.

"Welcome Lion-O," greeted Claudette, kissing her son upon his forehead. "It's wonderful to finally meet you."

* * *

Inside the east wing of Cat's Lair, between the Royal Bedchambers and the palace entrance to Cats Cathedral was a room referred by most as the Kings Vault. Guarded at all times by a Thundercat and a Cleric, the 14 by 14 foot area was used to house two of the most powerful objects ever forged: the Claw Gauntlet and the Sword of Omens – the latter of which had grown quite active since the Queen's onset of labor. With each contraction Claudette endured, the sentient blade trembled more and more urgently in its crystalline holder, straining to be free of its confines. The birth of the cheetah cub the prior year had heralded the coming of its rightful wielder and, as Lion-O's tiny form had slid into Jaga's waiting hands, the Sword of Omens – crafted by the God Brenton-Ptah himself in the forges underneath Tir'Na'Nog at the bequest of Nobanion-Mane –would be denied no longer.

In a blinding flash of electric-blue light, the Eye of Thundera shifted from its normal Cat's Eye to the profile of a hunting cat's head and the Sword was free of its holder, suspended in a free floating levitation. Arcs of energy leapt from the weapon, sizzling and cracking as they burnt into ozone before a concentrated blast surged from the sheer blade to puncture a path upwards and outwards. Bursting into the chamber, Thundercat and Cleric guard could only watch as the most prized weapon of their people rapidly ascended on its own volition.

Faces locked between shock and disbelief, both Cats looked at each other, then to the hole in the ceiling, then at each other, then the ceiling once more.

"Bronwynn, please tell me you know what happened?" the Thundercat asked.

"I think something great just happened, Prairie," replied the Cleric, her face breaking into a wide smile as she watched her friend's eyes blaze gold, "Something great indeed."

The Sword of Omens rose swiftly floor by floor - leaving many a stupefied onlooker in its wake - until it had punctured its way clear through Cat's Lair, coming to an abrupt halt some fifty feet above the structures sculpted head. For the briefest of moments, it was as if all the sounds in the night sky had been dampened down to mute to allow a crescendo to build; a crescendo that came in the form of a tremendous clap of thunder that shook even the oldest of mountains and culminated with the Eye of Thundera projecting forth the symbol of the Thundercats in a crimson hue more brilliant than that produced by the Gem of Light. Far and wide across Third Earth, every Thundercat young and old felt the call and knew their Lord had arrived.

Then, as suddenly as the event started, the thunder rolled back as did the light and the Sword began a decent not in the direction it came but in a slightly different angle…the Royal Birthing Den.

* * *

Sciroccio the iriomote paused in his trek along the allure of Thundera's main wall to yawn and stretch. Most of the day had been spent watching the farm folk bustle about as they hurried to beat out the Time of Planting and sow the last of their seeds and, while many of the younger members of The Guard considered such aspects of watch duty tedious and boring, Sciroccio enjoyed the quiet serenity. The iriomote had already seen his fair share of combat as a distinguished member of the 9th Legion's Sarissas Phalanx during the Siege of WinterFire as well as the Aggression of Ursamir Rasputovich and was content now to protect the city he loved from within its borders instead of abroad. Besides, the birth of the new prince the following day had caused quite the commotion throughout Thundera; never had the Sword of Omens ever acted in such a manner.

From the garrison chatter, Panthro and the EAC had been furious – still were more than likely - about the sheer amount of materials and work that was needed to repair the damage the Sword has inflicted to the palace. Supposedly, the giant panther took it upon himself to personally chastise the Sword as it rested securely in the Claw Gauntlet on the King's hip.

The iriomote would have paid to see that.

It was Sciroccio - staring out onto the horizon - who first caught sight of the avian form moving at speed toward the city. Certain it was not a built craft and not recognizing the flight pattern as belonging to a species known to the area, curiosity peaked in the grey-and-brown Cat and he withdrew his prized spyglass from his belt-pouch. A stickler for procedure, the iriomote spotted the closest of his fellow Guard and hailed him with a shrill three-two-three-two whistle code before raising the scope to his eye.

"Órale Sciroccio," greeted the fellow guard as he approached. "Please tell me you see some action; I can't wait until the celebration for the new Prince tonight."

"Dragon."

"What-on?"

"I said Dragon; too far off for me to make out the type but it's a dragon and it's certainly heading this way."

"Damn it, that's not the kind of action I was lookin' for. If only General Grune were here…"

Sciroccio blanched at the thought of how "The Destroyer" would handle the situation. More than likely, the sabre-tooth would attack first and ask questions later. Battle with a dragon would not fare well for the city of Thundera. "Get to a horn and sound a warning," ordered the iriomote as he moved to leave. "You must get the People inside the city. I will inform his Highness."

* * *

For a thousand years the mighty beast had slept soundly in its cave deep within the Cloud Mountains and would have been content to slumber away another thousand had it not been for the stirring call the year prior. One hundred feet of muscle and bone surged into motion. Like a cascading waterfall, a horde of gems to rival the treasuries of three fell from metallic-silver scales harder than the finest crafted armor or shields. Patagium wings twice the length of the massive body billowed forth sending a gust of wind howling throughout the voluminous cavern. With a deafening roar terrifying enough to cause the most stalwart paladin to wet his codpiece, the great Wyrm fire-side tales had long ago dubbed SilverFrost was out of its den taking wing.

The world had changed much since SilverFrost had last flown the skies. The dragon wondered if its brethren shared such musings.

Once they all awoke and arrived at The Meet, it would have to inquire - curiosity demanded such an inquiry.

* * *

A/N: That's a rap on chapter 3, I do hope you enjoyed it. As always, leave a review or a PM and let me know. The best way for me to give you what you want is for you to let me know what you want.

**Some have wondered why I allowed the review from "TygraRules" to go through. The reason is simple. I did it to not only allow others to have a laugh at the expense of this coward but to show other writers that there is nothing to fear from these types of people. They thrive on creating misery so I'd rather deny them that pleasure and use their remarks to bring humor to others.**

* * *

A brief glossary of terms:

Brenton-Ptah – God of Crafting and Metallurgy. Tiger

EAC – Engineering and Architecture Corps

Mafdet – Messenger Goddess. Cheetah

Mag Mell – Plane of Joy, Thunderian afterlife

Nobanion-Mane – Chief God of Cats, husband to Sekhmet-Bast. Lion

Patagium – skin-like membrane that makes up wings of bats

Runemal – art of casting runes

Sekhmet-Bast – Chief Goddess of Cats, wife to Nobanion-Mane. Lion

Shemtet – Trickster Goddess of Magic. Bay Cat

Tir'Na'Nog – Ivory Tower, home of the Feline Gods, located in Mag Mell

* * *

*If there is a term not understood that I did not cover, PM me. I'll be more than happy to explain and update the glossary.


	4. Three Tales of Darkness

Disclaimer: I only own my own imagination. Everything else belongs to other people.

* * *

A/N: Reviews, PM's, they are my bread and butter so do me a favor and feed me. Let me know what you liked, what you didn't like, and anything else that might be on your mind about this story.

As always, massive amounts of thanks to the two Muses who continue to inspire me.

Now, on with the show...

* * *

The stumpy-legged catoblepas confidently waded into the shallows of the swamp, lowering its head – so much akin to a warthog's, just much uglier - to graze upon masses of waterlogged marsh grass. For years, the loathsome beast had stalked its claimed territory secure that its long, muscular tail tipped with a knotted bone mass, and large, drooping, bloodshot eyes capable of paralyzing any gazed upon, were more than enough defense against any that would threaten it. Not even the savage tribes of Lizards that dwelled in the same terrain posed much of a threat to the catoblepas.

Laying in wait barely three feet underneath the muck of the marsh floor, the mottled worm sensed the vibrations of catoblepas as it approached, then began to feed upon the bed of grass the twenty-foot long aquatic nightmare had staked out as an ambush area. A sudden explosion of water marked the attack. In seconds, the six-and-a-half-foot tall, four hundred thirty pound, buffalo-like body of the quadruped was being constricted. Squealing in distress, the catoblepas repeatedly lashed out with its tail, striking the mace-like tip against the worm's rubbery hide to no effect. Even its much relied upon gaze also proved useless given that the verme was blind, operating strictly on tactile responses. With every breath, with every struggle, the constriction grew tighter.

Bone and cartilage audibly snapped under the extreme pressure. The beast that had ruled this area of swamp for over two decades knew it had to escape otherwise it would die. In an act of desperation, the muscles of its long neck surged to whip its head – more specifically its bore-like tusks – into the invertebrate's skin. Viscous, lime green fluid spewed forth as the catoblepas tore its tusks free and how the worm roared!

Still, it was a vain and futile attempt. While constriction would have eventually won out, the worm had no desire to suffer through another goring from its meals elongated teeth; thus, the quickest death was sought to that end. It brought its own tail – tipped with a wicked stinger filled with lethal venom - into play, driving the needle-sharp point into the side of the catoblepas, just behind the front shoulder through a lung and into the heart. Feeling the body go limp, the mottled worm gave one last mighty squeeze just to make sure before it uncoiled, repositioned itself, widened its lamprey shaped mouth – filled with dozens of razor sharp teeth, and began to slowly devour its latest meal – tail first - in peace.

Or so it thought.

* * *

Tracking the catoblepas had been relatively easy - the thing did little to hide its passing and its stench was unmistakable. It wasn't just caution that kept other creatures at a respectable distance as the beast marched across the soggy ground; the noxious odor was so putrescent, prolonged exposure could physically damage nasal cavities. As the long-neck grazed, the leader of the hunting party was prepared to signal his underlings to launch their planned long range attack when the mottled worm struck. To the faithful worshipper, it was clear that Sobek was showing his children favor. While far from being considered a delicacy by any sentient race, the abundant meat of the shaggy, bloated bull was an excellent source of nutrients; there would be enough food to feed his Tribe for two moons, maybe even three.

Using a highly developed signing code in combination with the release of specific pheromones, the leader of the reptile band relayed a message to wait until the worm had fully swallowed the catoblepas, becoming lethargic as it began to slowly digest the shaggy, burgundy skinned bovine. When all but the head had been consumed, fingers flashed and chemicals swelled the air "sounding" the charge. They came from seemingly out of nowhere; a swarming, hissing mass of Lizards that jabbed into the cylindrical body with jagged, wicked javelins and spears. Even with the smell of death driving them into an obvious frenzy, the reptiles tried their best to avoid extensive damage to the catoblepas; no reason to ruin a good meal.

Lethargic or not, the gigantic bottom dweller was still a formidable opponent and managed to mount a significant defense, repeatedly lashing out with its piercing tail, knocking away four Lizards and stabbing into two more to deliver fatal doses of its potent toxin. In all likelihood, it probably would have been able to hold its own against the entire hunting party had their leader not decided to enter the fray – and he just happened to be a Troglodyte.

Taller than Lizards, with a far denser musculature, ridge-like crest running the length of forehead to base of tail instead of spiny row, a rougher, more leathery scaled hide, and enhanced abilities such as venom delivery, membranes to allow limited flight and gliding capabilities, even a hypnotic gaze, Troglodytes were a subspecies of the reptiles originally bred thousands of years ago in an attempt to create a genetically superior stock unbeatable in war – a "pure" race, a "perfect" race. The success of those endeavors into selective breeding experimentation remains to this day, subjective at best. To Lizards, the Troglodyte was the ultimate expression of their God, Sobek – one of his most beautiful children. To the rest of the universe, the Troglodytes were a serious threat not to be underestimated in the slightest.

Although he was a deadly marksman with the javelin, this Troglodyte – intimidating by even the standards of his breed - preferred close quarters combat to the safety of long range. And his favored weapon just happened to be a nightmarish two-handed executioner's axe. It was this very weapon the Troglodyte hefted in a spinning arc as he charged in, hopping over a sweep of the worm's tail to deliver a tremendous overhead chop, embedding the two foot long blade into the worm's head, severing its miniscule brain in a glorious display of carnage and gushing fluids.

As the cylindrical body shuttered and shook in the spasms of its death throes, the Troglodyte tore free his axe, reveling in the shower of gore spewing forth from the fatal wound, lusting the chanting of his name, Sutekh, from his underlings.

With every kill, with every conquest, with every display of dominance, Sutekh was gaining prestige and followers. Soon, he would be able to challenge his King for leadership of the Tribe. Soon, he would return his people to their rightful place as a dominant, Keystone species.

Though the twenty-footer had been an unexpected quarry, Sutekh's Lizards had no difficulty fashioning an adequate transport sled crafted from fukiya (hollow, highly durable marsh reeds often averaging forty-eight inches long), the large leaves of bog palm, and snake vines. In no time at all, the group had its kill plus one, loaded up and ready to return. By all measures, the hunt had been a rousing success yet, the Troglodyte couldn't shake the ominous, disturbing feeling that clung to his bones. There was an unusual scent - something he couldn't describe - on the wind.

* * *

Kolobos – the principal city of the Lizard race. Located deep within the Swamp of Serpents, those not of reptilian or amphibian blood would be loathed to call it a gem of a city by any standards yet there was a certain primal beauty to the mud sculpted structures. Its inhabitants were used to seeing many types of creatures flying about from dragonflies to vultures, but the vision of the titanic black dragon long known as Skell – and from the massive, forward curving twin horns set into the gaunt skull to the sword-like end of its dreadful tail there could be no mistaking - taking wing to soar over the city after nearly a century of slumber, was something none but the oldest of Lizards could fathom let alone comprehend. In moments, the Lord of the Swamps was joined by more of its kind along with a score of leathery scaled, crocodile-jawed greens, armored coppers, whose wing patagium – like that of brass and gold dragons – extended past the hind quarters to their tails, and, most terrifying of all, a pair of flame belching reds, each easily over one hundred feet long with wingspans twice their body length. So many of the supreme creatures filled the sky, the high crested sun was blotted out, darkening the sky as if an eclipse had overtaken the fiery orb.

By the time Sutekh and his hunters breached the canopy of trees that marked the western edge of Kolobos, the flight of dragons was fully underway and nearing its completion. Seeing as his home was thus far unharmed, the Troglodyte decided there was no reason to launch any form of attack against the second children of the cosmos. He was many things but stupid was not one of them. Any attack against even one dragon would bring down the wrath of all, ensuring the destruction of Kolobos. Even a city as well defended as Thundera would not be able to withstand the sheer destruction and devastation brought on by a flight of dragons' combined wrath.

No, Sutekh's main concern was hiding his group's bounty from any possible scavengers (not that any such creatures would be about with one active dragon let alone dozens) before making sure his father the King and his youngest brother Slythe, whom he favored above all other members of his family, were safe.

* * *

Slythe looked on in disgust as his father and brothers prostrated themselves in prayer, begging for divine protection. Like his eldest brother Sutekh, Slythe was a Troglodyte, and like his eldest brother, he did not believe in running from a challenge. He'd wanted to stay above ground when the dragons were spotted. He wanted to wait for Sutekh to return so they could fight by his side as he'd dreamed of for years now. Instead, he had been forced to follow his cowardly family down the Deep Pools – the series of networking underwater channels and passageways constructed by the semi-aquatic Lizard's that led to a vast complex of subterranean caverns far beneath Kolobos.

"You troubled Bpobhilon…more so dan usual."

If the completely silent approach or the raspy, wheezing voice of Yevena, the elder shamanic priest of Serpentis, startled the young Troglodyte, Slythe didn't show it.

"I look at my father, Rhagos, and my brothers, Issul, Slavryn, and Kieluth, all I wish to do is tear out their throats with my teeth. They run; they hide; they bend knee to Cats. They shame our Gods with cowardly acts then ask for their blessings. Tell me, Swamp Witch, why should Sobek, Set, or any other show them any consideration at all?"

The dry-scaled crone gave a hissing cackle - so much like sandpaper being rapidly rubbed across a length of wood. "Bpobhilon, you be spendin' too much time wit you hisstacheen Suteckh, you be startin' to sound like him more an more. Next ting I know, you gonna start comin' down des caves like he do, always seekin' me out to learn bout de ol' ways."

"Sutekh knows the old ways are the better ways, yesss. Had he been leading our people against the Cats, we would not have lost and that damnable Treaty of Atreides would never have been agreed to, let alone signed. Our lands would not have been stripped away; we would not be forced into squalor paying undue reparations to undeserving wretches, and we most certainly would not be relegated to residing in swamps and bogs, suffering starvation and forced to endure accursed, hell-sent swarms of blood-gutted marsh flies! We would be ruling the Pride Lands and all that surrounds them! We would be the dominant species on Third Earth, not of a bunch of hairball hacking kittens!"

Yevena slowly bent her sagging, mottled grey form into a crouch, motioning for the young warrior-prince to do the same, before casting a handful of bones from her gnarled claws to the damp, stone of the cavern. "Bones don lie, Bpobhilon. Dey be talkin sometin fierce lately. Dey say de ol' ways gonna be comin back. Dey say dark clouds n tlincallis be gathering 'round a pyramid o' black, dat dah red-eyed demon o' dread from de ol' days gonna come callin again. Dey say Bpobhilon, dat when him come callin, you faddah ain't gonna be livin to answer."

"Does my father know of this?" Slythe asked, suddenly very interested in the seer's foretelling.

"No Bpobhilon," rasped the priestess as she collected the bones and used the Troglodytes rotund, muscular frame to raise herself. "An he ain't gonna be knowin bout it. Our Gods, dey wantin what be happenin to be happenin. Dey don be wantin Rhagos to be tryin to change tings dey don be wantin changed."

"So we have lost the favor of the Gods? Is that the reason for the dragons; to finally bring about the end?"

Again came that sandpaper laughter. "Dis got nuttin to do wit dah Second Sons o dah Cosmos; dey just tendin to dey own business. Not a single one wouldah bothered any us no how less we bothered dem first, but you faddah jus be scarred o anytin with a shadow bigger den him own. King Rhagos n King Rhagos alone got dah Wrath o Apep on him. He stink of it and no amount o prayer gonna wash it off. His sons gonna need to make a choice; do deh stand wit dey faddah or do dey stand wit dey Gods. I tell you now, Sutekh done already made his choice. You need to be tinkin bout where you gonna stand."

Turning his gaze back to his father, still on his knees in worship to crudely chiseled stone representations of their reptilian deities, Slythe narrowed his bulbous eyes, a sure sign his deviously calculating mind was at work. He despised his father, thus the news that the Lizard King would soon be dead delighted the savage royal. Still, the passing of Rhagos meant that Kieluth, eldest of the five sons would more than likely inherit the throne. Although, if something were to…happen…to Kieluth, the throne would belong to Sutekh.

That was a prospect Slythe could live with.

* * *

**A Culinary Treatise**:

_The Joy of Wendigo: How to Properly Prepare, Portion, and Present_

_Body Preparation_: I dare say freshness is paramount for best results. Another suggestion is to try as often as one can to obtain potential meals that have been raised in captivity rather than taken from the wilds. If you are fortunate enough to have a delectable selection at hand, ensure the animal has no access to food for at least two full nights, but does have copious amounts of water available. Forced fasting will help to clean the system, flushing and purging the body of wastes, toxins, and other substances that may negatively affect the flavor of the meat, making the processes of bleeding and cleaning your meal easier. Once fasting is complete, it is recommended that the meal be dispatched of as quickly and cleanly as possible. A meal that is excited and struggling will not only create a mess of its surrounds, its body will produce massive amounts of hormones such as epinephrine in addition to greater quantities of blood that can spoil that taste. A sharp blow to the back of the head, directed at the junction where the brain stem and spinal column connect, is an ideal and personally preferred method. I loathe the use of substances to dull and incapacitate before a death blow is delivered because it defeats the entire purpose of fasting your meal.

_Hanging_: After the meal is dead, it is ready for the next stage of preparation - hoisting. There are various means to properly hoist an animal but the two I suggest are binding and hooking. In binding, to begin, the limbs are looped with rope or tether attached to a support agent overhead. Careful consideration should be taken in selecting the binding agent – a rope too thin may break or worse, sever limbs at the point of restraint, a rope too thin may slip causing your meal to unceremoniously fall to the floor. Once the limbs are bound to the ropes of the support agent, the rear section is raised first, followed by the forward section making sure that the head is distal and inferior to the tailbone. This will allow an easy and controllable flow during the bleeding stage. With hooking, an incision is made behind the main tendon of the ankle – an antiquated name for this being the Achilles tendon – before hooks are inserted through the openings. Once done, the body is suspended in a vertical position with rear appendages spread so feet are past the shoulders. Access to the pelvic region is provided and the butcher need not worry about forward appendages getting in the way; in fact, this position allows for easy removal of the aforementioned extremity when the time comes.

_Bleeding_: To begin, select an open vessel, large enough to collect the full quantity of drainage, beneath the meal's head. Using a long-bladed knife, start at one corner of the jaw and make an "ear-to-ear" cut through the neck - deep enough to sever the larynx as well as the internal and external arteries - to the opposite side. After the initial pressurized jet of blood, the flow should be manageable and can be directed into any adequate receptacle. Drainage can be assisted by massaging the extremities down in the direction of the trunk. A prime-picked meal will contain roughly six to nine liters of blood depending on species and size. The collected fluid can be used to brew an excellent blood wine that serves very well with a variety of dishes.

"Mrmph!"

_Beheading_: After the bleeding process, decapitation can begin. The butcher should continue the initial cut through the throat, around the entire neck, from jaw-line to the back of the skull. Once muscle and ligament have been properly sliced away, the head can be cleanly removed by gripping it firmly on either side while twisting it off. Separation will occur where the spinal cord meets the skull if properly executed. This process is similar to the methods used for dividing other bones or joints, in that the meat should generally be cut through first with a knife, and the exposed bone then separated with a proper implement such as a saw. Depending on the specimen, the brain and tongue can be harvested to be used in a number of excellent dishes, soups, and stews.

_Skinning_: Once the head is removed, wash the rest of the body down with a warm water solution which will soften the connective layer of adipose tissue beneath the dermis. Because there is no major market for such hides, extensive care in removing the skin in a single piece is not necessary and makes the task much easier. The skin is in fact, a large organ, and by flaying the carcass, the muscular configuration is exposed, not to mention hair and the tiny glands which produce sweaty oil are removed as well. At this stage, a short-bladed knife should be used so as to avoid slicing into muscle and viscera. When removing the skin, first score the surface, cutting lightly to gain a measure of depth and direction. The diagram of the skinning pattern should follow a strip-style, dividing the surface into portions easy to work with and handle. Reflect the skin by lifting up and peeling back with one hand, while bringing the knife in as flat to the skin as possible to cut away connective tissue. The external genitals present only a small obstacle. In the male, they can be pulled away from the body and severed, in the female the outer lips can be skinned as the rest of the body. Note that it is important to leave the anus untouched to this point as well as an adequate circle of skin should be left around it. Distal extremities can be ignored during the skinning phase unless the chef plans to pickle or use in a soup or stew. The skin can be disposed of, or made into fried rinds – a particular favorite of mine. Boil the strips and peel away the outer layer, then cut into smaller pieces and deep-fry in boiling oil until puffy and crisp; dust with seasonings and serve as a delightfully indulgent appetizer.

_Gutting_: The next major step – and possibly the most important – is the complete evisceration of the carcass. This is accomplished by making a cut from the solar plexus - the point between the breastbone and stomach - almost to the anus. Be very careful not to cut into the intestines otherwise you will contaminate the surrounding area with bacteria and possibly feces. If contamination does occur, thoroughly cleanse the area with large quantities of water. A good way to avoid this is to use the knife inside the abdominal wall, blade facing toward you, and making cautious progress. After making a cut around the anus, tie off the section with a generous amount of butchers twine to prevent additional contamination as well as to prevent the body from voiding any material left in the bowel regions. Next, using a quality saw or other similar severing utensil, cut through the pubic bone making the lower body completely accessible and allowing for the physical removal of the organ masses such as the large and small intestines, kidneys, liver, stomach via cutting them away from the posterior wall of the body cavity.

For the upper torso, cut through the diaphragm - the muscular membrane which divides the upper, or thoracic, and the lower abdominal cavities - around the inner surface of the carcass first. After the diaphragm has been severed, remove the breastbone, cutting down to the point on each side where connection with the ribs is established, then saw through and detach from the collar bone. Some prefer to cut straight through the middle; this is entirely dependent on the preference for cuts in the final stages. The heart and lungs may be detached and the throat incised to remove the larynx and trachea. Extra care must be taken to ensure the preservation of the heart as it is the raison d'être for the entire ordeal. That being said, once all of the inner organs have been cleared, any leftover blood vessels or remaining pieces of connective tissue can be trimmed away from the interior of the carcass before it is washed out thoroughly.

"Mrmph!"

_Remove the Frontal Limbs_: Now that the meal has been properly cleaned and dressed, the actual butchering of the carcass is now ready to be undertaken. To begin, cut into the armpit straight to the shoulder, and remove the arm bone from the collar bone and shoulder blade. Paws, claws, talons, hooves, hands, et cetera, can be severed an inch or so superior to the wrist. Most of the consumable meat of the arms is located between elbow and shoulder, as the muscle groups here are larger and more abundant due to the fact that there are two bones in the forearm. Finally, cut into and break apart the joint of the elbow and are now ready to be carved from the two halves of each arm.

_Preparing the Carcass_: Once the frontal limbs have been cleanly removed it is now possible for the main body to be severed in half. Some prefer to saw straight through the spine from buttocks to neck. This method leaves the muscle fiber encasing the vertebrae on the end of the ribs. The meat here however is tightly wrapped about the bone, and many find it more suitable to be used as a stock base. My personally preferred method is to completely remove the entire backbone by cutting and then sawing down either side from the tailbone on through.

_Quartering_: Now that the carcass has been separated into two, unless the preparation table or butcher's block being used is too short to accommodate, the halves can be taken down. Now is also the time to begin consideration about how the meal will be served, as this will determine the style of cuts you are about to make. These cuts will also be greatly affected by the muscular configuration – the overall physical tone - of your specimen. First, dismember the feet at a point about three inches superior from the ankle. Be advised that often, the bones are very thick where the leg connects to the foot and a certain degree of effort will be required to successfully work through. Next, you will want to divide the sides of meat into two further principal portions: the ribs and shoulder, and the half-pelvis and legs. In between is the "flank" or belly, which may be used for fillets or steaks if the meat is thick enough or even bacon strips if you wish to cut this thinly. Wide and thin strips of flesh may also be rolled and cooked to serve as a roast. Trim away along the edge of the ribs, and then decide whether you will cut steaks from the flank into the thighs and rump, and carve accordingly.

_Preparation of the Top Quarter_: You may now trim away the neck, or leave it to be connected with the shoulder, as "chuck". The first major step with this mass is to remove the shoulder blade and the collar bone. The best and easiest way found is to simply cut along the outer edge of the shoulder blade, removing the meat on top and then dislocating the large bone. To excise the collar bone, make an incision along its length, then cut and pry it away. Depending upon the development of the breast, it may qualify as a "brisket." If this is the case, remove it before moving onto the ribs. In female specimens, the breast is composed largely of glands and fatty tissue, and despite its appetizing appearance, sadly, it is rather inedible. The ribs are, quite often, the choicest cut of this quarter.

_Preparation of the Lower Quarter_: This is where most of the consumable meat is in all upright animals. The muscle mass is often largest in the legs and rump. The main pieces are the buttock or rump and the upper leg, the thigh. The typical division is to cut the leg off at the bottom of the buttock, then chop away the bony mass of the knee, at places two to three inches away in either direction. Before doing this, however, you may want to remove the whole calf muscle from the back of the lower leg, as this is the best cut in its area. The upper leg is now ready for anything, most especially some beautiful, thick round steaks. The rump will have to be carved from the pelvis in a rather triangular piece. The legs attach at the hip at a forward point on the body, so there will be little interference as you carve along the curve of the pelvis. Remaining meat will be on the thighs in front of the pelvis.

"Mrmph! MRMPH!"

With an exasperated sigh, Addicus ceased his reading aloud, carefully marked his place, then closed the flesh-bound book, setting it upon the kitchen countertop with a tender pat to its cover before turning his attention to the struggling young Monkian, gagged and bound prone to a thick oak carving table.

"Oh-oh, you are being very rude you Batous" the older primate chastised, "I am trying to share something that is very rare, vary fascinating, and very informative and you, oh-oh, are making such a racket, I oh-oh, can't even hear myself speak. I had oh-oh hoped the offspring of our reigning Son Goku, the 'mighty' Raucan would show better manners; we will have to do something about that."

"Mrmph!"

Addicus moved from the helpless noble to a simple cabinet set in front of the table. Opening the doors, the sadistic Monkian allowed his captive - held for three days now - to fully view the horrors held within. Knives, spikes, hammers, clamps, clips, and all other manner of twisted tools born of a madman's most pleasurable fantasy waited patiently for their master to once again put them to use.

"I oh-oh, must admit, I am rather looking forward to watching the look upon your father's face as he sits at my dinner party, enjoying the taste of his own son sliding down his throat into his stomach!"

The son of Raucan watched as a massive bone - the femur of a Brute Man, its bulbous tip stained a nocturne crimson – was selected, examined, approved, and removed. He saw the look of pure joy in the eyes of the brilliant military general and seated noble of the Parliament as the respected elder turned towards him.

"Please, feel free to be as afraid as you desire. A oh-oh, point of disagreement I have with the text you so oh-oh, rudely interrupted is that fear spoils the flavor of the meat; I think, oh-oh, it adds something… unique to the taste."

Securing and steadying the younger ape's head with a firm grip of his left hand Addicus raised the bone-club in his right, took careful aim, and, with a swift swing, delivered a perfect and instantaneously fatal blow to the neck, crushing not only the spinal column but the brain stem as well.

* * *

Addicus, who walked with the Wendigo – the Cannibal God – watched with glee as his table of guests eagerly consumed every last morsel he'd set and served for them. Most had no idea they were consuming the flesh and meat, cooked in various fashions, of the son of the very King that was seated at the head of the table. Those in attendance who shared their host's particular palate had to suppress their giggles whenever any of the gentry seated at his table - even Raucan himself, would compliment a particular dish, expressing their belief it was passion upon their tongues.

"It is a pity my son Batous could not join us," the baboon King lamented in between hearty spoonfuls of the most scrumptious brain pudding he'd ever tasted. "He would have enjoyed such a feast, but I fear his thirst for knowledge has gotten the better of him; earlier, I received correspondence that he has decided to follow and study the most curious flight of dragons that occurred this morning."

"Oh-oh, a fine endeavor for such an, oh-oh, adventurous youth," toasted Addicus with a raise of his blood-wine filled glass. "While we all wish he were here…in the flesh…to enjoy the meal I have worked so, oh-oh, diligently to prepare, I say best wishes on his journey – from beginning to end."

"Here, here!" the table cheered, each raising a glass of the provided wine before sipping deeply.

"Yes, we had heard those dreadful beasts were coming out of their holes en masse," piped Baroness Pompriss, an obnoxious, overly perfumed mandrill that Addicus would have loved to get upon his carving station. "At first, we thought all the commotion was due to those horridly wild Warrior Maidens of the Trees. Frightful lot that bunch. No breeding at all. Still, we do so hope the young master returns with many a story to tell; we do so love a good story."

"I had heard that even ForeverDawn, the venerable Gold of the volcano Mt. Hephaestus was seen in flight." Garok-Garog, a cleft lipped gorilla Earl that was well aware of what he was eating added. "I know for certain that SilverFrost has been confirmed awake and active, and there is word that Skell of the Black Horns has ended its hibernation as well. It is as if every breed on Third Earth is en route towards the same place."

Addicus feigned interest with all the practiced skill of a master thespian throughout the rest of the night. He truly did not care for any of the guests or any of the conversations - his mind was too busy planning ahead. First, he would need to dispose of the bones of Batous – a simple matter of planting them near the borders of Thundera. When Raucan, Son Goku of the Monkian's, discovered that the remains of his only child had been discovered so close to lands controlled by Cats, he would of course believe without a doubt that the felines were to blame. If everything went according to plan, war would be declared without a doubt, and with a war, Addicus would have no shortage of flesh to consume.

Such was the eternal hunger of the Wendigo. Such was the promise of the red-eyed sorcerer who walked as a ghost.

* * *

"Sobek looked upon the vessels carefully crafted by Mau with open contempt and for the first time, a God sought the blood of another God. The crocodile called to his side the likes of the vulture Harpy, Nemesis the bull, and Okkoto the boar, who shared Sobek's views, to rally others against Mau. Still, Gods such as Amaguq of the canis, the ursine Artio, even Horus the falco, aided the feline…"

Inside the windowless, white-walled room, Professor Sigmund Van de Graaff sat across from the six-year-old jackal, observing his body language and mannerisms, jotting down notations in his tabular as the cub read from a book the psychotherapist did not recall ever seeing before.

By all outward appearances, the jackal, Kaynar by name, was a healthy, inquisitive male – at times too inquisitive – with a developing mind far more advanced than anything the owl had ever witnessed before. One could never have guessed that just over one year prior, the child had picked up his father's pugio one cool autumn evening and used the 12-inch blade to slit the throats of his parents before repeatedly stabbing them. When the scene was discovered, little Kaynar was soaked in blood, busy using the freshly removed hearts to doodle strange, archaic symbols upon the adobe walls; most numerous being the arrow pierced Ankh – easily recognized as the mark of Upuaut – and a lesser known brand - a twin-headed serpent twisted into a near figure-eight so that each head was facing the other – that none could place.

"Upuaut read from the Tablets of the Dead, stolen by his hand from his father Anubis, learning secrets and truths not meant to be known to such a young God. At first, Anubis found the pilfering an amusing distraction, an act brought about "simply by the curiosity of youth," as he would often say. However, no amusement was to be found when Upuaut, eager to replace his father as a Greater Power, used the Tablets to strip all but a handful of the God's vessels of their immortality. In vengeance, He Who Guides took back the Tablets, struck down Upuaut, decreeing that not only would his own son face a century of exile to the now mortal realms every millennia, but that all those now mortal who followed the cast down God, all those who sought him out to learn the forbidden knowledge, would be forever touched with blessed madness…"

It was a heinous, unthinkable attack that confused, baffled, and confounded all who became involved. Van de Graaff, who had gained fame serving in some of Third Earth's most prestigious physician's courts, had been summoned to the Mens Sana Corpore Sano Sanitarium of Akkadia in order to evaluate the cause of such a tragedy.

In the time that followed, Van de Graaff discovered something about the boy that chilled his blood, causing him to strongly consider requesting that Kaynar never be allowed to taste the air of freedom. Kaynar was possessed of an absolute lack of sympathy, empathy, and compassion. It was as if the part of the brain that differentiated between right and wrong, moral and immoral, simply did not exist. Living behind those innocent appearing eyes was nothing but insanity, chaos, and pure, unfiltered evil.

* * *

The two bulldogs guarding the main gate to the sanitarium had never before beheld such a steed as the one that came clip-clopping along to a dead stop directly in front of the expansive structure. Its mane and tail were ragged and unkempt, coat blacker than coal, eyes of glowing red, and hooves that burned like the coals of a mighty dwarven forge. From its flame orange nostrils billowed forth a caustic smoke, stinging the eyes of the sentries as they moved closer to investigate. Then, as suddenly as the equine creature appeared, it was gone, dissipating into a haze of foggy vapor.

"Oi, what's goin on 'ere?" demanded one of the guards, his gruff voice cracking with uncertainty and a twinge of fear.

"Turn around."

Both guards spun back to the main gates upon hearing the earthen voice at their backs to find…not a living soul.

"Over here." Again the voice came from behind the guards and again, both bulldogs turned to find nobody there.

"This some wanker's idea of a laugh," called the second guard, "Trying for some shits and giggles, eh? You done piss all of a job."

"Gurk!"

At the noise, the second turned to his companion just in time to catch the canine as he fell forward, his throat sliced cleanly open.

"Bollocks!" cried the bulldog in sheer panic, dropping the dead body and turning to the safety of the gates.

A whip flashed, breaking the air with a sharp crack, wrapping around the guard's thick ankle. A strong tug violently took him off his feet, laying him prone. As he raised his head in a desperate attempt to issue a baying alert, the whip lashed out once more, this time around the bulldog's throat, taking his voice. The heave that followed pulled the guard backwards so that he was staring up at a cloaked and hooded figure that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere.

"I am Paracelsus," introduced the Shape in the same earthen voice that had tormented the guards as he drew back the hood covering his head to reveal a face half covered by what seemed to be a mask of pure gold, "and you are dead."

From a special sheath contained in a wrist bracer extended an eighteen inch blade, its edge finer than a razor's. With a downward thrust, the blade was plunged into the bulldog's chest, trough his sternum, and into his heart.

A snatch of keys, a turn of a lock, and Paracelsus was inside the sanitarium where another guard rose to meet him, and fell dead at his feet.

Marching through the corridors, Paracelsus searched for his quarry, searched for the individual he'd been sent to retrieve. Any and all who stood in his way soon learned that death had come upon them.

* * *

"By the branches of the eternal Yggdrasil," proclaimed Professor Van der Graaf as crashes and commotions continued to echo from the halls. "What is going on out there?"

"Communion, Herr Professor," replied Kaynar with a bone chillingly psychotic laughter. "Through the Blood all things are possible. Allow me to share such insights with you."

The tan furred youth sprang across the table with such a sudden speed of action the owl never had a chance to raise a hand in defense. Jaws clamped around feathered throat, teeth sank into flesh and, with a jerking tear, blood poured freely.

Paracelsus found Kaynar just as the child had been found the year prior; covered in blood, using the precious life fluid of one he'd killed to draw symbols upon the rooms surfaces.

"Ah good, you're here," noted the jackal, again with that psychotic laughter as he shuffled over to poke at the body of the owl. "I was just starting to run out of squishy things to play with."

Paracelsus ran a hand through the portion of hair not covered by precious metal – a shock of orange with black striping – and gave an amused sigh. There could be no doubt, this was the youth the lich had chosen to be his High Priest. "Perhaps you'd like to get cleaned up before we leave," he offered, motioning to a portion of trachea stuck in the corner of the jackal's mouth. "By the way, you've got a little piece of someone right there."

* * *

Deep in the center of the forbidden lands of Moorwen, powerful bolts of lightning coursed down from black clouds to strike the tips of the four massive obelisks, each placed in correspondence to a primary directional point to surround the foreboding structure known to all as the Onyx Pyramid. From the obelisks traveled the lightning's energy, flowing through pathways down into the pyramid's central burial chamber, focusing into the towering sculptures of the four primary Ancient Spirits of Evil.

Ghost Fire leapt from wall mounted torches to illuminate the nightmarish room. Four sets of stone eyes opened after countless ages, casting their sightless, all seeing gazes upon a time worn sarcophagus that suddenly began to hiss and expel stagnant air, teeming with lethal aspergillum moulds. The lid shifted away and over ever so slightly as a withered, decrepit, bandage-wrapped hand slowly slithered out, stretching and flexing out the innumerable years of rigor mortis before grasping the edge of the heavy top to shift it aside.

"Ancient Spirits of Evil, transform this decayed form, to Mumm-Ra, the EVER LIVING!"

* * *

A/N: Hope those who have taken the time to read have enjoyed the material. As always, your thoughts are welcomed and wanted so drop a review or a PM.

* * *

Glossary:

Bpobhilon - Lizard tongue meaning "young warrior"

Hisstacheen - Lizard tongue meaning "favored family member," a more relatable term would be "Big Brother"

Kolobos - Ancient Greek slang meaning "to mutilate or to visciously sever/cut

Mens Sana Corpore Sano - Sound Mind Sound Body

Patagium - Membrane found primarily on wings of bats

Second Sons of the Cosmos - Old terminology used to reference dragons. The origin of the phrase lies in the belief that the only reasons the Gods came before the dragons was because the bodies of dragons were too large to fit through the Wellspring of Creation and they became stuck, allowing the Gods to squeeze by. Thus, dragons missed their chance to be "first."

Serpentis - Primary religion of Lizards and Troglodytes

Son Goku - Monkey King

Treaty of Atreides - Signed by the Lizard King, Rhagos, to end the Lizard Uprising.

Verme - worm


End file.
